


The Neighbor

by Marvelgal12303



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of these chapters are super short, Implied abuse, It gets better I swear, Lily and Remus friendship, M/M, Remus Centric, Remus Lupin-centric, Remus has a disease, Remus is pure, Remus likes books, Remus’s POV, Sirius is a math nerd, Sirius really likes math okay, aka his immune system sucks, and he’s allergic to life, based on the book everything everything by Nicola Yoon, its a form of severe combined immunodeficiency, let regulus paint his nails black 2k18, lily evans is a good friend, lily is a nurse, mentions of abuse, remus’s Mom is overprotective, sirius dad is a jerk, sirius is his neighbor, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-03-16 11:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 63
Words: 18,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelgal12303/pseuds/Marvelgal12303
Summary: My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse/friend, Lily.But then one day a moving truck arrives next door.[STARTED 2-10-2018][ONGOING]





	1. THE WHITE ROOM

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY IS LARGELY BASED OFF OF THE BOOK EVERYTHING EVERYTHING BY NICOLA YOON SO CREDIT HER FOR THE IDEA.  
> okay enjoy

I’ve read many more books than you. It doesn’t matter how many you’ve read. I’ve read more. Believe me. I’ve had the time.

In my white room, against my white walls, on my white bookshelves, book spines provide the only color. The books are all brand new hardcovers, no germy secondhand soft covers for me. They come to me from Outside, decontaminated and vacuum sealed in plastic wrap. I would like to see the machine that does this. I imagine each book traveling on a white conveyor belt toward rectangular white stations where robotic white arms dust, scrape, spray, and otherwise sterilize it until it’s finally deemed clean enough to come to me. When a new book arrives, my first task is to remove the wrapping, a process that involves scissors and more than one broken nail. My second task is to write my name on the inside front cover.

PROPERTY OF: Remus Lupin

I don’t know why I do this. There’s no one else here except my mother, who never reads, and my nurse, Lily, who has no time to read because she spends all her time watching me breathe. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. Lily isn’t just my nurse, she’s also my best and only friend. It’s not her fault that her job is to constantly look after me and she doesn’t have time for much else. But aside from those two, I rarely have visitors, and so there’s no one to lend my books to. There’s no one who needs reminding that the forgotten book on his or her shelf belongs to me.

REWARD IF FOUND (check all that apply):

This is the section that takes me the longest time, and I vary with each book. So,times the rewards are fanciful:  
-Picnic with me (Remus) in a pollen filled field of poppies, lilies, and endless man-in-the-moon marigolds under a clear blue summer sky.  
-Drink tea with me (Remus) in a lighthouse in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of a hurricane.  
-Snorkel with me (Remus) off Molokini to spot the Hawaiian state fish- the humuhumuunukunukuapuaa.

Sometimes the rewards are not so fanciful:  
-A visit with me (Remus) to a used bookstore.  
-A walk outside with me (Remus), just down the block and back.  
-A short conversation with me (Remus), discussing anything you want, on my white couch, in my white bedroom.

Sometimes the reward is just:  
-Me (Remus).


	2. SCID ROW

My disease is as rare as it is famous. It’s a form of Severe Combined Immunodeficiency, but you know it as “bubble baby disease”.

Basically, I’m allergic to the world. Anything can trigger a bout of sickness. It could be the chemicals in the cleaner used to wipe the table that I just touched. It could be someone’s perfume. It could be the exotic spice in the food I just ate. It could be one, or all, or none of these things, or so,etching else entirely. No one knows the triggers, but everyone knows the consequences. According to my mom, I almost died as an infant. And so I stay on SCID row. I don’t leave my house, have not in seventeen years.


	3. DAILY HEALTH LOG

_**Remus Lupin**_  
PATIENT NAME

 _ **May 2**_  
DATE

 _ **Dr. Hope Lupin**_  
CARETAKER

 

 

 

 

0002921


	4. BREATHS PER MINUTE

8am: 10  
10am: 10  
Noon: 10  
2pm: 10

 

 

 

0002921


	5. ROOM TEMPERATURE

8am: 73 degrees

10am: 73 degrees

Noon: 73 degrees

2pm: 73 degrees

 

 

 

 

 

0002921


	6. AIR FILTER STATUS

8am:  _ok_

9am:  _ok_

10am:  _ok_

11am:  _ok_

12pm:  _ok_

1pm:  _ok_

2pm:  _ok_

 

 

 

 

0002921

 


	7. BRTHDAE UISH

“Movie night or Honor Pictionary or Book Club?” My mom asks while inflating a blood pressure cough around my arm. She doesn’t mention her favorite of all our post dinner activities, Phonetic Scrabble. I look up to see that her eyes are already laughing at me.

“Phonetic,” I say.

She stops inflating the cuff. Ordinarily Lily, my full time nurse, would be taking my blood pressure and filling out my daily healthy logs, but mom gave her the day off. Lily wasn’t always my nurse. Lily is actually only nineteen, which is why we get along so well. She was some honor child that skipped a ton of grades and ended up getting her medical degree only two and a half years ago. Her mom was actually my nurse before her but around two years ago she got into an accident, making her unfit to leave her house. My mom ended up hiring Lily after that because she knew about how amazing she was and Lily took the job because she needed the money. Me and Lily new each other before then, of course. Her mom thought it was important that I have atleast one friend in my life so my mom allowed her to bring Lily over every once in a while. I grew up with Lily in a way. But as amazing as she is, she is still nineteen and being a full time nurse is a lot of work, so she could use the break. Besides, it’s my birthday and me and my mom always spend the day together, just the two of us.

She puts on her stethoscope so that she can listen to my heartbeat. Her smile fades and is replaced by her more serious doctors face. This is the face her patients most often see. Slightly distant, professional, and concerned. I wonder if they find it comforting.

Impulsively I give her a quick kiss on the forehead to remind her that it’s just me, her favorite patient , her son.

She opens her eyes, smiles, and caresses my cheek. I guess if your going to be born with a disease that requires constant care, then it’s good to have your mom as a doctor.

A few seconds later she gives me her best I’m The Doctor And I’m Afraid I Have Some Bad News For You face. “It’s your big day. Why don’t we play something you have an actual chance of winning? Honor Pictionary?”

Since regular Pictionary can’t really be played with two people, we invented Honor Pictionary. One person draws and the other person is on their honor to make their best guess. If you guess correctly, the other person scores.

I narrow my eyes at her. “We’re playing Phonetic and I’m winning this time” I say confidently, even though in all our years of playing Phonetic Scrabble, or Fonetik Skrabbl, I’ve never beaten her at it. I’ve come close, like last time we played. But then she devastated me on the final word, playing JEENZ on a triple word score.

“Ok” she shakes her head with mock pity. “Anything you want” she closes her laughing eyes to listen to the stethoscope.

We spend the rest of the morning baking my traditional birthday cake of vanilla sponge with vanilla cream frosting. After it’s cooled, I apply an unreasonably thin layer of frosting, just enough to cover the cake. We are both cake people, not frosting people. For decoration, I draw eighteen frosted daisies with white petals and a white center across the top. On the sides I fashion draped white curtains.

“Perfect” my mom peers over my shoulders as I finish up. “Just like you”

I turn to face her. She’s smiling a wide, proud smile at me, but her eyes are bright with tears.

“You. Are. Tragic” I say, and squirt a dollop of frosting on her nose, which only makes her laugh and cry some more. Really, she’s not usually this emotional, but something about my birthday always makes her both weepy and joyful at the same time. And if she’s weepy and joyful, then I’m weepy and joyful too.

“I know” she says, throwing her hand helplessly In the air. “I’m totally pathetic” She pulls me into a hug and squeezes. Frosting gets in my hair.

My birthday is the one day of the year that we’re both most acutely aware of my illness. It’s the acknowledgement of the passage of time that does it. Another year of being sick, no hope for a cure on the horizon. Another year of missing normal teenager things. Learners permit, first kiss, prom, first heartbreak, first fender bender. Another year of my mom doing nothing but working and taking care of me. Every other day these omissions are easy...easier at least...to ignore.

This year is a little harder than the previous. Maybe it’s because I’m eighteen now. Technically, I’m an adult. I should be leaving home, going off to college. My mom should be dreading empty nest syndrome. Bit because of SCID, I’m not going anywhere.

Later after dinner she gives me a set of watercolor pencils that have been on my wishlist for months. We go into the living room and sit cross legged in front of the coffee table. This is also apart of our birthday ritual: she lights a single candle in the center of the cake. I close my eyes and make a wish. I blow the candle out.

“What did you wish for?” She asks as soon as I open my eyes.

Really, there’s only one thing to wish for. A magical cure that I’ll allow me to run free outside like a wild animal. But I never make that wish cause it’s impossible. It’s like wishing that mermaids and fairies and dragons were real. Instead I wished for something more likely than a cure. Something less likely to make us both sad.

“World peace” I say.

Three slices of cake later, we began a game of Fonetik. I do not win. I don’t even come close.

She uses all seven letters and puts down POKALIP next to an S. POKALIPS.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Apocalypse” she says, eyes dancing.

“No mom, no way. I can’t give that to you”

“Yes” is all she says.

“Mom you need an extra A, no way”

“Pokalips” she says for effect, gesturing at the letters. “It totally works”

I shake my head.

“P O K A L I P S” she insists, slowly dragging out the word

“Oh my god, you’re relentless” I say, throwing my hands up. “Okay, Okay, I’ll allow it”

“Yessss” she pumps her fist and laughs at me and marks down her now insurmountable score. “You’ve never really understood this game” she says. “It’s a game of persuasion”

I slice myself another piece of cake. “That is not persuasion” I say. “That is cheating”

“Same same” she says, and we both laugh.

“You can beat me at Honor Pictionary tomorrow” she says.

After I lose, we go to the couch and watch our favorite movie, Young Frankenstein. Watching it is also apart of our birthday ritual. We spend the night laughing at the same jokes in the same way we have been laughing at them for years. All in all, not a bad way to spend your eighteenth birthday.


	8. STAYS THE SAME

I’m reading on my white couch when Lily comes in the next morning.

“Happy birthday” she sings outloud.

I lower my book. “Thanks”

“How was your birthday?” She begins unpacking her medical stuff.

“We had fun” 

“Vanilla cake and vanilla frosting?” She asks.

“Of course”

“Young Frankenstein?” 

“Yes”

“And you lost at that game?” She asks.

“We’re pretty predictable, huh?”

“Yeah, duh” she laughs. “I’m jealous of how close your family is”

She picks up my health log from yesterday, quickly reviews my moms measurements and adds a new sheet to the clipboard. “These days Petunia doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me”

Petunia is Lily’s sister. According to Lily, they were really close until she got into medical school and became the prodigy child of the family. Petunia got jealous and has been unnecessarily mean to her since.

Lily sits next to me on the couch and I hold my arm out for the blood pressure eyes drop to my book. 

“Flowers for Algernon again?” She asks. “Remus, doesn’t that book always make you cry?”

“One day it won’t” I say. “I want to be sure I’m reading it on that day”

She rolls her eyes at me and takes my hand.

It is kind of a flip answer, but then I wonder if it’s true.

Maybe I’m holding out hope that one day, someday, things will change.


	9. LIFE IS SHORT: SPOILER REVIEWS BY REMUS

FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON BY DANIEL KEYES 

Spoiler Alert: Algernon is a mouse. The mouse dies.


	10. ALIEN INVASION, PART 2

I’m up to the part where Charlie realizes that the mouse’s fate may be his own when I hear a loud rumbling noise outside. Immediately my mind goes to outer space. I picture I giant mother ship hovering in the skies above us.

The house trembles and my books vibrate on the shelves. A steady beeping joins the rumbling and I know what it is. A truck. Probably just lost, I tell my self. Probably just made a wrong turn on their way somewhere else.

But then the engine cuts off. Doors open and close. A moment passes, and then another, them a woman’s voice says “Welcome to our new house everybody”

Lily stares at me hard for a few seconds and I know what she’s thinking.

It’s happening again.


	11. REMUS’s DIARY

August 5

The family in the

house next door moved

away.  ~~The~~ The boy cried.

he hid in the garden

and ate dirt untill his

mom found him but

she didn’t yell at him

for eating it like

she usually does.

outside is so quief 

now.

last night I had 

A dream that they

didnt really move away.

they got kidnapped

by aliens. The aliens

didnt take me because

im sick and they only

wanted healthy people.

They took mommy and 

mrs Evans and lily away

amd the family next door

and I was all alome.

i woke up crying 

and mommy came and

stayed

in bed with

me. I didn’t tell her 

what the dream was

about because it would 

make her sad, but

I told Lily and

she gave me a hug.


	12. THE WELCOME COMMITEE

“Lily” I say, “it won’t be like last time. I’m not eight years old anymore.”

“Yeah, I know, Remus. But I also know how overly attached you get. I want you to promise-“ she begins but I’m already at the window, sweeping the curtains aside.

I am not prepared for the bright sun. I’m not prepared for the sight of it, high and blazing hot and white against the washed out white sky. I am blind. But then the white haze over my vision begins to clear. Everything is haloed.

I see the truck and the silhouette of an older woman, the mother. I see an older man at the back of the truck, the father. I see a boy maybe a little younger than me, the son.

Then I see him. He’s wearing all black. Black t-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and black messy hair pulled into a bun. He jumps down from his perch at the back of the truck and glides across the driveway, moving as if gravity effects him differently than it does the rest of us. He stops, cocks his head to one side, and stares up at his new house as if it were a puzzle.

After a few seconds he begins bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. Suddenly he takes off at a sprint and runs literally six feet up the front wall. He grabs a windowsill and dangles from it for a second or two, then drops to a crouch.

“Nice, Sirius” says his brother.

“Didn’t I tell you to quit doing that stuff?” His father growls.

He ignores them both and remains in his crouch. 

I press my open palm against the glass, breathless, as if I had done that stunt myself. I look from him to the wall to the windowsill then back to him again. He’s no longer crouched. He’s staring at me. Our eyes meet. Vaguely I wonder what he sees in my window, strange boy in white with wide staring eyes. He grins at me and his face is no longer stark. No longer severe. I try to smile back, but I’m so flustered that I frown at him instead.


	13. MY WHITE BALLOON

That night I dream that the house breathes with me. I exhale and the walls contract like a pinpricked balloon, crushing me as it deflates. I inhale and the walls expand. A single breath more and my life will finally, finally explode.


	14. NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

HIS MOMS SCHEDULE  
6:35AM- arrives on the porch with a cup of something steaming hot. Coffee?  
6:36AM- stares off into an empty lot across the street while sipping her drink. Tea?  
7:00AM- Reenters the house  
7:15AM- Back on porch. Kisses husband goodbye. Watches as his car drives away.  
9:30AM- Gardens. Looks for, finds, and discards cigarette butts.  
1:00PM- leaves the house in car. Errands?  
5:00PM- Screams at Regulus and Sirius to begin chores “before your father gets home”

REGULUS’ (BROTHER) SCHEDULE  
10:00AM- walks out onto the porch  
10:01AM- checks his text messages. He gets a lot.  
10:06AM- smokes three cigarettes in the garden between our two houses.  
10:20AM-digs a hole with the toe of his boots and buries cigarette carcasses.  
5:02PM: chores.

HIS DADS SCHEDULE   
7:15AM- leaves for work  
6:00PM- arrives home from work  
6:20PM- sits on porch with drink #1  
6:30PM- reenters house for dinner   
7:00PM- back on porch with drink #2  
7:25PM- drink #3  
7:45PM- yelling at family begins  
10:35PM- yelling at family subsides

SIRIUS’S SCHEDULE  
unpredictable


	15. I SPY

I figure his name is “Sirius” as this is what his family calls him. Well that’s what his brother calls him. His parents usually address him exclusively when they’re mad and then it’s “Sirius Orion Black”. His family must really like stars. Out of all of them, I watch him the most. His bedroom is on the second floor and almost directly across from mine. His blinds are almost always open.

Some morning he sleeps till noon. Others, he’s gone from his room before I wake up. Most mornings, though, he wakes up at 9AM, claims out of his bedroom, and makes his way, Spider-Man style, to his roof using the siding. He stays up there for about an hour before swinging, legs first, back into his room. No matter how much I try, I haven’t been able to see what he does when he’s up there.

His room is empty except for a bed and a chest of drawers. A few boxes from the move remain unpacked and stacked by the doorway. There are no decorations except for a single poster from the movie “Jump London”. I looked it up and it’s about parkour, which explains a lot. The more I watch, the more I want to know.


	16. MENTEUSE

I’ve just sat down at the dining table for dinner. My mom places a cloth napkin in my lap and fills my water glass and then Lily's. Friday night dinners are special in my house. Lily even stays late to eat with us instead of with her own family. "You guys are way better to be around anyway" she's stated on multiple occasions.

Everything at Friday Night Dinner is French. The napkins are white cloth embroidered with fleur-de-lis at the edges. The cutlery is antique French and ornate. We even have miniature silver La tour Eiffel salt and pepper shakers. Of course, we have to be careful with the menu because of my allergies, but my mom always makes her version of a cassoulet—a French stew with chicken, sausage, duck, and white beans. It was my dad’s favorite dish before he died. The version that my mom cooks for me contains only white beans cooked in chicken broth.

“Remus,” my mom says. “Miss McGonagall tells me that you’re late on your architecture assignment. Is everything all right, honey?”

I’m surprised by her question. I know I’m late, but since I’ve never been late before I guess didn’t realize that she was keeping track.

“Is the assignment too hard?” She frowns as she ladles cassoulet into my bowl. “Do you want me to find you a new tutor?”

“Oui, non, et non,” I say in response to each question. “Everything’s fine. I’ll turn it in tomorrow, I promise. I just lost track of time.”

She nods and begins slicing and buttering pieces of crusty French bread for me. I know she wants to ask something else. I even know what she wants to ask, but she’s afraid of the answer.

“Is it the new neighbors?”

Lily gives me a sharp look. I’ve never lied to my mom. I’ve never had a reason and I don’t think I know how to. But something tells me what I need to do.

“I’ve just been reading too much. You know how I get with a good book.” I make my voice as reassuring as possible. I don’t want her to worry. She has enough to worry about with me as it is.

How do you say “liar” in French?

“Not hungry?” my mom asks a few minutes later. She presses the back of her hand against my forehead.

“You don’t have a fever.” She lets her hand linger a moment longer.

I’m about to reassure her when the doorbell rings. This happens so infrequently that I don’t know what to make of it.

The bell rings again.

My mom half rises from her chair.

Lily stands all the way up.

The bell sounds for a third time. I smile for no reason.

“Want me to get it, Mrs Lupin?” Lily asks.

My mom waves her off. “Stay here,” she says to me.

Lily puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. I know I should stay here. I know I’m expected to. Certainly I expect me to, but somehow, today, I just can’t. I need to know who it is, even if it’s just a wayward traveler.

I move to follow my mom but Lily stops me. "Remus, wait. Your mom said to wait here" she says cautiously.

“But why? She’s just being extra cautious. Besides, she won’t let anyone past the air lock.” i know Lily is just trying to do her job and take care of me, but I also know she's my friend.

She relents, and I’m off down the hallway with her right behind me.

The air lock is a small sealed room surrounding the front door. It’s airtight so that no potential hazards can leak into the main house when the front door is open. I press my ear against it. At first I can’t hear anything over the air filters, but then I hear a voice.

“My mom sent a Bundt.” says a voice that I had heard talking on the phone in the garden on multiple occasions. My brain is processing the word Bundt, trying to get an image of what it looks like before it dawns on me that the person at the door is Regulus

“The thing about my mom’s Bundts is that they are not very good. Terrible. Actually inedible, very nearly indestructible. Between you and me.” says a new voice. This one is deep and has a tint of amusement. Sirius.

Regulus speaks again. “Every time we move she makes us bring one to the neighbor.”

“Oh. Well. This is a surprise isn’t it? That’s very nice. Please tell her thank you very much for me.”

There’s no chance that this Bundt cake has passed the proper inspections, and I can feel my mom trying to figure out how to tell them she can’t take the cake without revealing the truth about me.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence.

“So you want us to take it back?” Regulus asks disbelievingly.

“Well, that’s rude,” Sirius says. He sounds angry and resigned, as though he’d expected disappointment.

“I’m so sorry,” my mom says again. “It’s complicated. I’m really very sorry because this is so sweet of you and your mom. Please thank her for me.”

“Is your son home?” Sirius asks quite loudly, before she can close the door. “We’re hoping he could show us around.”

My heart speeds up and I can feel the pulse of it against my ribs. Did he just ask about me? No stranger has just dropped by to visit me before. Aside from my mom, Lily, and my tutors, the world barely knows I exist. I mean, I exist online. I have online friends and my Tumblr book reviews, but that’s not the same as being a real person who can be visited by strange boys bearing Bundt cakes.

“I’m so sorry, but he can’t. Welcome to the neighborhood, and thank you again.”

The front door closes and I step back to wait for my mom. She has to remain in the air lock until the filters have a chance to purify the foreign air. A minute later she steps back into house. She doesn’t notice me right away. Instead she stands still, eyes closed with her head slightly bowed.

“I’m sorry,” she says, without looking up.

“I’m OK, Mom. Don’t worry.”

For the thousandth time I realize anew how hard my disease is on her. It’s the only world I’ve known, but before me she had my brother and my dad. She traveled and played soccer. She had a normal life that did not include being cloistered in a bubble for fourteen hours a day with her sick teenage son.

I hold her and let her hold me for a few more minutes. She’s taking this disappointment much harder than I am.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she says.

“There’s nothing to make up for.”

“I love you, sweetie.”

We drift back into the dining room and finish dinner quickly and, for the most part, silently. Lily leaves and my mom asks if I want to beat her at a game of Honor Pictionary, but I ask for a rain check. I’m not really in the mood.

Instead, I head upstairs imagining what a Bundt cake tastes like.


	17. PIECE DE REJECTION

Back in my room I go immediately to my bedroom window. His dad is home from work and somethings wrong because he’s angry and getting angrier by the second. He grabs the bundt cake from Regulus and throws it hard at Sirius but Sirius is too fast and graceful. He dodges and the cake falls to the ground.

Remarkably the bundt seems unharmed, but the plate shattered against the driveway. This only makes his dad angrier.

“You clean that up. You clean that up right now” he slams into the house. His mom goes after him. Regulus shakes his head at Sirius and says something to him that makes his shoulders slump. Sirius stands there looking at the cake for a few minutes. He disappears into the house and returns with a broom and a dustpan. He takes his time, way longer than necessary, sweeping up the broken plate.

When he’s done he climbs to the roof, taking the bundt with him, and it’s another hour before he swings back into his room.

I’m hiding in my usual spot behind the curtain when I suddenly no longer want to hide. I turn on the lights and go back to the window. I don’t even bother to take a deep breath. It’s not going to help. I pull the curtain aside to find that he’s already there in his window, staring right at me. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t wave. Instead, he just reaches his arm overhead and pulls the blind closed.


	18. SURVIVAL

“How long are you gonna mope around the house like a rejected prom date?” Lily asks. “You’ve been like this all week, Moony. I’m worried” she calls me by my old nickname, which makes me feel a pang of guilt for worrying her.

“I’m not moping” I say although I have been moping a little. Sirius’s rejection made me feel like a little boy who had just been dumped by his first girlfriend. Boyfriend? Partner. This is stupid, why am I hung up over this? I’ve never even spoken a word to him. It’s just so hard to stop paying attention to the world now.

I’m trying to get back to my normal routine but it’s hard when I can hear all the sounds of the outside world. I notice things that I never did before, I hear the wind disturbing the trees. I hear birds gossiping. I see the rectangles of sunlight that slip through my blinds and work their way across the room throughout the day. You can mark time by them. As much as I’m determined to keep the world out it seems determined to come in. 

“You’ve been reading the same five pages in that book for days now” lily crosses her arms and points at my copy of Lord of The Flies.

“Well, it’s a terrible book”

“I thought it was a classic” she smirked as she sat next to me.

“It’s terrible. Most of the boys are awful and all they talk about is hunting and killing pigs. I’ve never been so hungry for bacon in my life”

She laughs, but it’s not her normal Lily laugh. It’s halfhearted at best. She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Moony, tell me what’s wrong”

I put the book down and close my eyes. “I just want them to go away” I confess. “It was easier before”

“What was?” 

“I don’t know. Being me. Being sick” she opens her mouth to say something but before she can I keep going. “It’s just, it sucks, you know? I’m trapped in this stupid house while other people my age are living their lives. I’m never gonna get married or have kids or even get a decent job. And now I’m developing feelings for our neighbor who’s probably not even gay and even if he is there’s no way it’ll work out and it’s just hopeless. Everything is hopeless” tears are threatening to pool out of my eyes, and Lily looks pained.

She gives me a hug. “Remus, listen to me. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know. You better believe that”

“Lil you don’t have to-“

“Shush, listen to me. I’ve been thinking this over. I could see that this Sirius drama was weighing down on you, but I know you’re going to be alright.”

“I’m not so sure”

“That’s okay. I can be sure for the both of us. I have known you since as long as I can remember, so I know what I’m talking about. When I met you I was astonished on how someone a year younger than me could live like this and be so strong about it. I was waiting for you to break down at any minute, but you never did. Everyday you find something to be happy about. Every single day you have a smile for me. You worry more about your mother than about yourself, Remmy”

I giggle a bit at the use of that nickname. It was given to me during a late night of watching ratatouille when I was ten.

Lily grins. “There’s that smile I missed so much!” She pats my shoulder. “Life is hard, Remmy, but everyone finds a way”


	19. LIFE IS SHORT : SPOILER REBIEWS BY REMUS

LORD OF THE FLIES BY WILLIAM GOLDING  
Spoiler alert: boys are savages.


	20. FIRST CONTACT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning? Mention of a bundt cake committing suicide? Idk it’s not serious

Two days passed and I’ve stopped moping. I’m getting better at ignoring the neighbors when I hear a ping coming from outside. I’m on my couch, still mired in Lord of The Flies. Mercifully, I’m close to finishing. Ralph is on the beach awaiting a violent death. I’m so eager for the book to end so that I could read something else, something happier, that I ignore the sound. Few minutes later there’s another ping, louder this time. I put the book down and listen. Pings three, four, and five come in rapid succession. Somethings hitting my window. Hail? I’m up and at my window before I can think better of it. I push the curtains aside.

Sirius’s Window is wide open, the blinds are up, and the lights are off in his room. The indestructible bundt is sitting on his windowsill wearing google eyes that are staring right at me. The cake trembles and them tilts forward, as if contemplating the distance to the ground. It retreats and trembles some more. I’m trying to see Sirius in his darkened room when the bundt leaps from the sill and plunges to the ground.

I gasp. Did the cake just commit suicide? I crane my neck to see what’s become of it but it’s too dark out. 

Just them a spotlight illuminates the cake. Unbelievably, it’s still intact. What’s that thing made of? It’s probably best that we didn’t try to eat it.

The lights go out and I look up just in time to catch Sirius’s black clad hand and flashlight retreat into the window. I stay for a few minutes, watching and waiting for him to come back, but he doesn’t .


	21. NIGHT TWO

I’m just settling into bed when the pings begin again. I am determined to ignore him, and I do. Whatever he wants I can’t do. It’s easier not to know.

I don’t go to the window that night or the next.


	22. NIGHT FOUR

I can’t stand it. I peek out from the corner of my curtains.

The bundt is sitting on the sill, Band Aids and bandages cover half it’s body. Sirius is nowhere to be found.


	23. NIGHT FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The poor bundt is trying to commit suicide again. Please don’t take this seriously.

The bundt is sitting on a table next to the window. There’s a martini glass filled with green liquid, a pack of cigarettes and a pill bottle with a skull and cross bones label. Another suicide attempt?

Still no Sirius.


	24. NIGHT SIX

The bundt is lying on a white sheet. And upside down plastic water bottle is attached to what looks like a coat hanger and is hanging above the cake. A string hangs from the bottle to the bundt like an IV. Sirius appears wearing a white jacket and a stethoscope. He’s frowning down at the bundt and listening for a heartbeat. I want to laugh but I don’t let myself. Sirius looks up and shakes his head solemnly p. I close my curtains, suppressing a smile, and walk away.


	25. NIGHT SEVEN

I tell myself that I won’t look, but as soon as the first ping sounds I’m at the window. Sirius is wearing a black bathrobe with an oversized silver cross around his neck. He’s preforming the last rites of the bundt.

Finally, I can’t help it. I laugh and laugh and laugh. He looks back and grins back. He takes a black marker from his pocket and writes on the window:

SORRY ABOUT THE OTHER NIGHT.  
SIRIOUSLYPADFOOT@GMAIL.COM


	26. FIRST CONTACT, PART TWO

**From:** Remus M. Lupin

 **To:** siriuslypadfoot@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Hello

 **Sent:** June 4, 8:03 PM

 

Hello. I guess we should start with introductions? My name is Remus Lupin, but you can tell from my email address. What’s yours?

-Remus Lupin

P.S. You don’t have anything to apologize for.

P.P.S. What is that Bundt made of?

 

~~~~**From:** sirius black 

 **To:** Remus M. Lupin<remus.lupin@gmail.com

 **Subject:** RE: Hello

 **Sent:** June 4, 8:07 PM

 

 

you are a terrible spy remus lupin if you haven’t already figured out my name. my brother and i tried to meet you last week but your mom wasn’t having any of it. I really don’t know what the bundt is made out of. rocks?

 

**From:** Remus M. Lupin

 **To:** siriuslypadfoot@gmail.com

 **Subject:** RE: RE: Hello

 **Sent:** June 4, 8:11PM

 

 

Hi,

Bundt Cake Recipe

 

3 cups all purpose cement mix

1 1/4 cups fine grained sawdust

1 cup gravel

1/2 tsp salt

1 cup Elmer’s Glue

2 sticks unsalted butter

3 tsp paint thinner

4 large eggs (room temperature)

 

DIRECTIONS

 

preheat oven to 350 degrees

Grease Bundt pan

 

for the cake

1\. In medium bowl, whisk together cement mix, salt, and gravel.

2\. In large bowl, whisk together butter, Elmer’s glue, paint thinner, and eggs. Do not over mix.

3\. Gradually whisk in dry ingredients in small batches.

4\. Spoon butter in bundt mold.

5\. Bake until tester inserted in cake refuses to come out. Cool in pan on rack.

 

for the glaze:

1\. Whisk together sawdust and enough water to form a thick yet pourable glaze.

2\. Set rack with cake over a piece of wax paper for easy cleanup.

3\. Drizzle cake with glaze and let solidify before serving.

 

(serves 0)

 

-Remus Lupin 

p.s. I’m not a spy !


	27. FIRST CONTACT, PART THREE

_Wednesday, 8:15PM_

**i was going to email you back, but saw you were online. your recipe cracked me up. has there ever been a spy in the whole history of spying who’s ever admitted to being a spy? I think not. I’m sirius and it’s nice to meet you.**

**what does the “m” stand for?**

Moony. It’s a nickname from my childhood.

**howd you get a nickname like that?**

My friend discovered that my first name is the same name of some ancient werewolf and my last name is a form of the Latin word “lipid”, translating to the word “wolf”

**so your name is literally werewolf mcwerewolf?**

**remus werewolf mcwerewolf Moony lupin. catchy.**

**got any other nicknames?**

Sometimes my mom calls me honey, does that count?

**hell no. I’ll stick with moony**

**were going to be friends.**

 

_Thursday, 8:19 PM_

Since we’re going to be friends I have some questions. Where are you from? Why do you only wear black? Related question: are you aware that clothing comes in other colors? I have suggestions if you need them. What do you do on the roof? What’s that tattoo on your right arm?

**i have answers: We’re from all over, but mostly the east coast. im dead sexy in black. yes. none needed, thanks. nothing. barcode.**

What do you have against proper punctuation and capital letters?

**Who says I do**

I have to go. Sorry!

 

_Friday, 8:34 PM_

**so now grounded are you?**

Im not grounded. Why do you think I’m grounded?

**well something made you log off in a hurry last night. I’m guessing it was your mom. trust me I know all about being grounded. and you never leave the house. I haven’t seen you outside since we got here**

I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m not grounded but I can’t keave the house.

**Very mysterious. are you a ghost? that’s what I thought the day we moved in and I saw you at the window. it would be my luck that the pretty boy next door is not actually alive.**

First I was a spy and now I’m a ghost!

**not a ghost? Fairytale princess then. which one are you? Cinderella? will you turn into a pumpkin if you leave your house?**

**or rapunzel? Your hairs not long though so I can’t climb up to rescue you.**

That has always sounded impractical and painful, don’t you think?

**yes. So not Cinderella and not rapunzel. Snow White then. Your evil stepmom put you under a spell so that you can’t leave your house and the world will never know how fair you are.**

That’s not how the story goes. Did you know that in the original version it wasn’t an evil stepmother, it was an evil mother? Can you believe that? Also there were no dwarves. Interesting, no?

**Definitely no.**

I’m not a princess 

and I don’t need rescuing

**That’s ok. I’m not a prince.**

you think I’m pretty ?

**for a fairytale ghost spy princess? Definitely.**

 

_Saturday, 8:01PM_

**How come you don’t log on until after 8?**

I’m usually not alone until then.

**Someone’s with you all day?**

Can we please not talk about this?

**Curiouser and curiouser Remus Lupin**

 

_Sunday, 8:22 PM_

**Here’s a game. Fast five favorites. Book word color vice person**

**come on come on. Type faster dude. Don’t think just type**

Sheesh. The little prince. Uxorious. Aquamarine. I don’t have any vices. My mom.

**Everyone’s got vices**

Not me. Why? How many do you have?

**Enough to choose a favorite ome**

Okay, your turn.

**Same list?**

Yes,

**Lord of the flies, macabre, Black, stealing silverware, my brother,**

Ugh. Lord of the flies? I don’t think we can be friends anymore. That book is awful.

**What’s so awful about it?**

Everything!

**You just don’t like it because it’s true**

What’s true? Left to our own devices we would kill eachother?

**Yes**

Do you really believe that?

**Yes**

Well I definitely dont

do you really steal silverware?

**You should see my spoon collection**

 

_Monday, 8:07PM_

**What you do to get so grounded?**

I’m not grounded and I don’t want to talk about this.

**Does it involve a girlfriend? Boyfriend? I don’t judge.**

**did you knock her up? Are you knocked up?**

Oh my god, you’re insane. It’s physcially impossible for me to be pregnant, which I’m not by the way! And I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend! What kind of boy do you think I am? 

**A mysterious one.**

Have you spent all day thinking I was pregnant?

have you ?

**It crossed my mind once or twice or fifteen times**

Unbelievable 

**Don’t you wanna know if I’m dating anybody?**

No.

 

_Tuesday, 8:18PM_

Hi.

**hey**

I didn’t know if you’d log on today. Are you okay?

**fine**

What happened? Why was he so angry?

**I don’t know what you’re talking about.**

Your dad, Sirius. Why was he so angry?

**You’ve got your secrets. I’ve got mine.**

Ok

**Ok**

 

_Wednesday, 3:31AM_

**Couldn’t sleep?**

No

**Me too, fast five favorites movie food, body part class**

That’s only four. Besides it’s way too late for this. I can’t think.

**Waiting**

Pride and predjudice, the bbc version, toast, hands, architecture

**Geez you sound like my mom, she loves mr. Darcy**

What’s so bad about Mr. Darcy?

**He’s a snob**

But he overcomes it and eventually realizes that character matters more than class!

**Huh**

Yeah.

**My turn?**

Proceed.

**Godzilla, toast, eyes, math. Wait is the body part your favorite on yourself or someone else?**

I don’t know! It’s your list!

**O yeah alright I’m sticking with eyes**

What color are your eyes?

**Grey...you?**

Green

that was still only 4 favorites. We need one more.

**I leave it to you.**

Form of poetry?

**That’s assuming I have one.**

You’re not a heathen

**limericks**

You are a heathen. I’m going to pretend you never said that.

**What’s wrong with a good limerick?**

Good limerick is a contradiction in terms

**What’s your favorite?**

Haiku

**Haikus are awful. They’re just less fun limericks.**

You’ve downgraded from heathen to heretic

**Noted**

Ok I should sleep

**ok me too**

 

_Thursday, 8:00PM_

I wouldn’t have guessed that math was your favorite class

**Why not ?**

I don’t know. You climb buildings and leap over things. Most people are good with their bodies or their minds. Not both.

**Is that a nice way of saying you think I’m dumb?**

No! I mean that...I don’t know what I mean

**You mean I’m too sexy to be good at it. It’s okay, I get that a lot.**

...

**It’s just takes practice like anything else. I was a mathlete two high schools ago I’ll have you know! Got a probability and stats question? I’m your guy**

No!

**Yes!**

So sexy

**I sense insecurity.**

No!

**Yes :)!**

So are you going to joint the mathletes at SFV high?

**Probably not**

**my dad made me quit. He wanted me to do something more manly like football.**

You play football?

**No. He made me quit the mathletes but he couldn’t bully the the couch into taking me mid season. He let it go eventually.**

What if he brings it up again now?

**I’m a little harder to bully then I was two years ago**

**im meaner now. Bigger too**

You don’t seem mean

**You don’t know me that well yet.**

 

_Friday, 3:03AM_

You’re awake again.

**yeah**

I know you don’t want to talk about this.

**And yet**

I saw what happened today. Are you okay?

**I’m okay. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.**

Oh, Sirius..

**Please don’t oh sirius me**

**tell me something , anything. Tell me something funny**

Okay. Why was the boy surprised to find celery growing out of his ears?

**Why?**

Because he’d planted corn!

hello?

**Oh Jesus that is not a good joke.**

Made you smile though.

**Yeah it did.**

**Thanks**

Anytime

 

_Saturday, 8:01PM_

**I guess I won’t get to meet you in person until school starts.**

I don’t go to school

**You mean you don’t go to SF Valley High? Where do you go?**

I mean I don’t go to regular school. I go online.

**Why?**

I really can’t talk about this.

**Come on. You gotta give me something here**

I want us to be friends . I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.

**Just tell me, we’ll still be friends.**

I’m sick.

**How sick?**

Really sick. Can’t leave the house sick.

**Jesus**

**are you dying??**

Not right now, no.

**Soon?**

If I left the house, yes.

**Ok**

**were still friends, I don’t feel sorry for you.**

Thanks.

**How does the whole school thing work?**

All of my classes are over Skype.

**Huh. Cool.**

**ever notice how a lot of the National spelling bee finalists are home schooled?**

I’ve never noticed that.

**It’s a thing**

**i wish we could meet**

Me too

ok I need to go now.

goodnight Sirius

**Goodnight moony**

 


	28. ASTRONAUT ICE CREAM

“Miss McGonagal is on her way up” Lily says from the doorway. I’m finally done putting the finishing touches on my model for architecture class. I’ve had to cut to short nights of IMs with Sirius to get it done. I don’t want my mom to get worried again. The assignment was to design an outdoor shopping/dining center in my favorite style. I chose Art Deco because the buildings look like they’re flying even though they’re standing still.

The centerpiece of the complex is a grassy outdoor seating area populated with oversized, oddly shaped chairs painted in bright zig zag patterns. I’ve already “planted” miniature plastic palm trees in the grass, and now I’m strategically placing miniature plastic people holding miniature plastic shopping bags to give it the “vigor of life” as Miss McGonagal would say.

In two years of tutoring I’ve only met Miss McGonagal in person twice. Usually all my tutoring, including architecture, takes place via Skype. My mom made a special exception this week. I think she’s still feeling bad about Regulus and Sirius’s visit from a couple weeks ago. I told her she had nothing to feel bad about, but she insisted. Having a visitor is a big deal because they have to agree to a medical background check and a thorough physical. Also they have to be decontaminated, which is basically like getting a high speed air bath for an hour. It’s a pain to come see me.

Miss McGonagal walks in with a smile. The decontamination process makes her cold so she’s rubbing her hands together for warmth.

“Remus” she says happily. She’s my favorite of all my tutors. She never looks at me pityingly and she loves architecture like I love architecture. If I were going to be something when I grow up, an architect is what I would be.

“Hi, Miss McGonagal” I say awkwardly, not knowing how to be around someone who isn’t Lily or my mother.

“So How has your project been going?” She asks as she observes my project. I place my last two tiny shopper next to a toy store and stand back.

She circles the model in a quiet way that leaves me anxious.

Then she gives me a warm smile. “Lupin, You’ve outdone yourself. This is quite lovely” she straightens from the model and is about to pat me on the shoulder before she catches herself. No touching allowed. She shakes her head slightly then bends over to examine more.

“Yes, Yes, quite lovely. There are only a few things we should talk about. But first, where is our astronaut hiding?”

Whenever I make a new model I make a clay astronaut figure and hide him in it. Each figure is different this time he’s in full astronaut gear complete with an airtight helmet and bulky oxygen tank, sitting in the diner at a table piled high with food. I’ve made miniature banana split sundays , Blueberry pancakes stacks, scrambled eggs, toast with butter and marmalade, bacon, milkshakes (strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla), cheeseburgers, and fries. I’d wanted to make curly fries but I ran out of time and had to settle for regular fries. 

“There he is” Miss McGonagal points out. She looks at the scene for a moment then turns to me. “It’s wonderful, my dear. But how will he eat all that scrumptious food with his helmet on?”

I look back at my astronaut. It’d never occurred to me that he’d want to eat the food.


	29. EVERYTHINGS A RISK

Lily’s smiling at me like she knows somethings I don’t know. She’s been doing it all day when she thinks I’m not looking. Also she’s been singing “Love me do” by The Beatles, her absolute favorite band of all time. She’s breathtakingly out of time. I’ll have to ask Sirius the probability that she could miss every note. Shouldn’t she hit one just by random chance?

It’s 12:30 PM and I have a half hour for lunch before my history tutor comes online. I’m not hungry. I’m basically never hungry anymore. Apparently a body can exist on IM alone.

Lily’s not looking, so I tab over to my Gmail. Thirteen messages from Sirius since last night. They’re all sent around 3 AM, and, naturally, he doesn’t write a subject. I laugh a little and shake my head. 

I want to read them, am dying to read them, but I have to be careful with Lily in the room. I glance over and find her staring at me, eyebrows raised. Does she know something?

“What’s so interesting on that laptop?” She asks, I see her face form a smirk and I probably turn tomato red. God. She definitely knows.

I draw my chair closer to my desk and place my sandwich on the laptop.

“Nothing” I take a bite of the sandwich. It’s Turkey Tuesday.

“It’s not nothing. Something is making you laugh over there” she inches closer, smiling at me. Her green eyes crinkle at the corners and her smile reaches the edge of her face.

“Cat video” I say through a mouthful of turkey. Ugh, wrong thing to say. Lily lives for cat videos. She could watch them all day if she could. 

She comes around, stands behind me, and reaches for the laptop.

I drop my sandwich and hug the laptop close to my chest. I’m not a good liar, and I say the first thing that comes into my head. “You don’t wanna see this one, Lil. It’s bad. The cat dies”

We stare at each other in a kind of stand off for a few seconds. I’m shocked because I’m an idiot and I can’t believe I just said that. Lily’s shocked because I’m an idiot and she can’t believe I just said that. Her mouth drops open, comically, like a cartoon, and her green eyes get bigger. She suddenly starts laughing like I’d never heard her laugh.

“You mean to tell me the only thing you could think to say was a dead cat?” She says between laughs.

I maintain my straight face even though I know my face is pink. “Just so you know”

“Well, if I didn’t know before I surely know now” she wipes tears that were forming in her eyes. “Oh, you should’ve seen your face”

“It’s not that funny” I grumble, annoyed that I gave myself away.

“Remmy, you forget that I’m a teenager too and I know when someone’s up to no good. Besides, Moony, you are absolute crap at hiding things. I see you checking your email and looking for him out the window.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” I ask, relieved.

She hands me my sandwich. “Depends, why were you hiding it from me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me getting sad again”

She eyes me for a long second. “Should I worry?”

“No”

“Then I’m not worrying, now eat your sandwich”


	30. FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

“Maybe he could come over for a visit?”

I be surprised myself by asking. Lily’s not fazed at all. She doesn’t even pause from wiping away nonexistent dust from my bookshelf.

“Remus you can’t be serious”

“Is that a no?” I ask.

She laughs at me.


	31. TWO HOURS LATER

I try again. “It would only be for half an hour. He could get decontaminated like Miss McGonaGal and then-“

“Are you crazy?”


	32. TEN MINUTES AFTER THAT

“Fifteen minutes”

“No”


	33. LATER STILL

“Please, Lil-“

She cuts me off. “Remus, I thought you were doing fine”

“I am. I a, doing fine. I just want to meet him-“

“We can’t always get what we want” she says. From the flatness of her tone alone, I know it’s a phrase she must have heard a lot. I can tell she regrets saying it to me but she doesn’t say anything else.

She’s leaving for the day, halfway out my bedroom when she stops. “You know I don’t like saying no to you, you’re my best friend”

I rush right through this opening. “He’d get decontaminated and sit across the room. Far, far away from me and only for fifteen minutes. Thirty at most”

She shakes her head. “I know you really like him but it’s too risky, your mother would never allow it”

“We won’t tell her” I say instantly.

She gives me a conflicted look. “I could lose my job, Remmy. The answer is no”


	34. TO THOSE WHO WAIT

Lily doesn’t say anything else about it until lunch two days later.

“Now you listen to me” she says. “No touching. You stay on your side of the room and he stays on his. I already told him the same thing”

I understand the words she’s saying but I don’t understand what she’s saying.

“What do you mean? You mean he’s here? He’s already here?”

“You stay on your side of the room and he stays on his. No touching. You understand?”

I don’t but I nod yes anyways.

“He’s waiting for you in the sunroom”

“Decontaminated?”

The look on her face says “what do you take me for?”

I stand up, sit down, and stand up again.

“Oh, geez” she says. “Go fix yourself up fast. I’m only giving you twenty minutes”

My stomach doesn’t just flip. It does high wire somersaults without a net. “What made you change your mind?”

She stares at me for a second and I see her sorting through everything she wants to say. She gives a small smile and says. “You deserve it”

I head to the mirror and “fix myself”. I’ve almost forgotten what I look like. I don’t spend a lot of time looking. There’s no need when there’s no one to see you. I like to think I’m an exact fifty fifty mixture of both my mom and dad. My hair is wavy and soft, not as straight as my dads and not as curly as my moms. It’s light brown and looks goldfish when the sun hits it just right. My eyes are green like my mom and I’m tall like my dad.

I look away then look back quickly, trying to catch myself in unawares to get a more accurate picture, trying to see what Sirius will see. I try out a laugh, and then smile, with teeth and without. I even try to frown even though I hope I don’t have cause to use it.

Lily crosses her arms and watches my antics with amusement. 

“You look like a lovesick middle school girl trying to impress her formal date” she says. 

I don’t turn around, talking instead to the Lily in the mirror. “Are you sure about this? You don’t think it’s too risky anymore?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” She comes over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Everything’s a risk. Not doing anything’s a risk. It’s up to you”

I look around my white room at my white couch and shelves, my white walls, all of it safe and familiar And unchanging. 

I think of Sirius, decontamination-cold and waiting for me.

He’s the opposite of all these things. He’s not safe. He’s not familiar. He’s in constant motion.

He’s the biggest risk I’ve ever taken


	35. FUTURE PERFECT

**From:** Remus M. Lupin

 **To:** siriuslypadfoot@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Future Perfect

 **Sent:** July 10, 12:30 PM

 

By the time you read this we will have met. It will have been perfect.

 


	36. SIRIUS

The sunroom is my favorite room in the house. It’s almost all glass- glass roof, and floor to ceiling glass windows that look out onto our perfectly manicured back lawn.

The rooms decor is like a movie set of a tropical rain forest. It’s filled with realistic and lush looking fake tropical plants. Banana and coconut trees laden with fake fruit and hibiscus plants with fake flowers are everywhere. There’s even a babbling stream that sneaks it’s way through the room, but there are no fish- atleast no real ones. The furniture is aged white wicker that looks like it’s been sitting in the sun. Because it’s meant to be tropical, ,y mom keeps a heated fan running and a slightly too warm breeze fills the room.

Most days I love it because I can imagine that the glass has fallen away and I’m outside. Other days I feel like a fish in an aquarium.

By the time I get there, Sirius has managed to climb halfway up the rocky back wall hands and feet wedged into crevices. He’s pinching one of the large banana leaves between his fingers when I walk in.

“It’s not real” he says to me.  
“It’s not real” I say at the same time.

He lets go of the branch but remains where he is on the wall. Climbing for him is like walking for the rest of us.

“Are you going to stay up there?” I ask, because I don’t know what else to say.

“I’m thinking about it, Moony. Lily said I had to stay as far away from you as possible and she doesn’t seem like the kind of woman you piss off”

“You can come down” I say. “Lily’s not as scary as she seems”

“Ok” he slips effortlessly to the floor. He puts his hands into his pockets, crosses his feet at ankles, and leans back against the wall. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so still. I think he’s trying not to spook me.

“Maybe you should come in” he says, and then I realize that I’m still in the doorway holding on to the knob. I close the door but I don’t take my eyes off him. His eyes track my movements as well.

After all the IMs I felt like I knew him, but now with him standing in front of it doesn’t feel that way at all. He’s shorter then I thought and way more muscled, but not bulky. His arms are lean and sculpte and his biceps fill the sleeves of his black tee shirt. His skin is pale but with a healthy tan, it would be warm to touch.

“You’re different then I thought you’d be” I blurt out,

He grins and a dimple forms just under his right eye.

“I know. Sexier, right? It’s okay, you can say it”

I guffaw. “How do you manage to carry around an ego that size and weight?”

“It’s the muscles” he shoots back, flexing his biceps and raising a single comical eyebrow.

Some of my nervousness falls away but then comes right back when he watches me laugh without saying anything for a few seconds too long.

“Your hair is really wavy” he says. “And you never said you had freckles”

“Was I suppose to?”

“Freckles might be a deal breaker” he smiles and the dimple comes back. Cute.

I move to the couch and sit. He leans against the rock wall across the room.

“They’re the bane of my existence” I say referring to the freckles. This is a ridiculous thing to say because of course the bane of my existence is that I’m sick and unable to leave my house. We both realize this at the same time and then we’re both laughing again.

“You’re funny” he says after our laughter subsides.

I smile. I’ve never thought of myself as a funny person but I’m glad he thinks so.

We are awkward together for a few moments, unsure what to say. The silence would be much less noticeable over IM. We could chalk it up to any number of distractions. But right now, in real life, it feels like we both have blank thought balloons over our heads. Actually, mines nigh blank at all, but I really can’t tell him how beautiful I think his eyes are.

“This is some crazy room” he says, looking around.

“Yeah. My mom built it so I could feel like I was outside”

“Does it work?”

“Most days. I have a really excellent imagination”

“You really are a fairy tale. Prince Remus and the Glass Castle” He’s quiet again. He’s trying to build up to something.

“It’s okay to ask me” I say.

He’s wearing a single black rubber band around his wrist and he pulls at it a few times before continuing. “How long have you been sick?”

“My whole life”

“What would happen if you went outside?”

“my head will explode. Or my lungs. Or my heart”

“How can you joke....?”

I shrug. “How can I not? Besides, I try not to want things I can’t have” 

“You’re like a Zen master. You should teach a class”

“It takes a long time to learn” I smile back at him.

He crouched, and then sits, back against the wall, for arms on his knees. Even though he’s still, I can feel the need to move coming off of him. Th boy is kinetic energy.

“Where do you wanna go the most?”

“Besides outer space?”

“Yes, Moony, besides outer space” I like the way he says Moony, as if he’s been calling me that my whole life.

“The beach. The ocean”

“Want me to describe it to you?”

I nod more vigorously then I expected to. My heart speeds up like I’m doing something illicit.

“I’ve seen pictures and videos, but what’s it like to actually be in the water? Is it like taking a bath in a giant tub?”

“Sort of” he says slowly, considering. “No, I take it back. Taking a bath is relaxing. Being in the ocean is scary. It’s wet and cold and salty and deadly”

That’s not what I was expecting. “You hate the ocean?”

He’s grinning now, warming to his topic. “I don’t hate it, I respect it” he holds up a single finger. “Respect. It’s Mother Natire at her finest- awesome, beautiful, impersonal, murderous. Think of it: all that water and you could still die of thirst. And the hole point of waves is to suck your feet from under so you drown faster. The ocean will swallow you whole and burp you out and not notice you were even there”

“Oh my God, You’re scared of it!”

“We haven’t even gotten to great white sharks or saltwater crocodiles or Indonesian needlefish or-“

“Okay, Okay” I say, laughing and holding up my hands for him to stop.

“It’s no joke” he says with mock seriousness. “The ocean will kill you” he winks at me. “It turns out that Mother Nature is a lousy mom”

I’m too busy laughing to say anything.

“So what else do you wanna know?”

“After that? Nothing!”

“Come on. I’m a fountain of knowledge”

“Okay, do one of your crazy tricks for me”

He’s on his feet in a blink and begins assessing the room critically. “There’s not enough room. Let’s go out-“ he stops himself mid sentence. “Crap, Remus, I’m sorry”

“stop” I say. I stand up and hold a hand out. “Do not feel sorry for me” I say this harshly but it’s too important a point. I couldn’t stand pity coming from him.

He flicks his rubber band, nods once, and lets it go. “I can do a one armed hand stand”

He steps away from the wall and simply falls forward until he’s upside down on his hands. It’s such a graceful and effortless movement that I’m momentarily filled with envy. What’s it like to have complete confidence in your body and what it will do?

“That’s amazing” I whisper.

“We’re not in church” he whisper shouts back, voice slightly strained from being upside down.

“I don’t know” I say. “It feels like I should be quiet”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes his eyes, slowly removes his left hand from the floor, and holds it out to the side. He’s almost perfectly still. The quiet bubbling of the pond and his slightly heavier breathing are the only sounds in the room. His t shirt falls up and I can see the hard muscles of his stomach.

“Okay” I say. “You can stop now”

He’s upright again before I can blink.

“What else can you do?”

He rubs his hands together and grins back at me.

One backflip later he sits back down against the wall and closes his eyes.

“So why outer space first?” He asks.

I shrug. “I want to see the world I guess”

“Not what most people mean by that” he says, smiling.

I nod and close my eyes as well. “Do you ever feel-“ I begin, but then the door opens and Lily bustles into rush him out.

“You didn’t touch, right?” She asks.

We both open our eyes and stare at each other. All at once I’m hyper aware of his body and mine.

“There was no touching” Sirius confirms, his eyes never leaving my face. Something in this time makes me blush hard, and heat travels a slow wave across my face.

Spontanous combustion is a real thing. I’m certain of it.


	37. DIAGNOSIS

webdoc.com

**HISTERICAL ABDOMINAL RHOPALOCERA**

The condition of having one or more monarch butterflies take up residence in the stomach.

WHO IS AFFECTED BY HAR?

The disease affects at least one teenage American every 30 seconds

SYMPTOMS

Nausea

Elevated heart rate

Inability to focus

Stomach “flipping”

Light headness 

CAUSES

HAR episodes are usually triggered by contact with a romantic interest. HAR sufferers describe feeling symptoms not only during the contact but before and after as well. Patients with the most acute form of the disease can trigger an episode by simply thinking about their romantic interest. 


	38. PERSPECTIVES

Before Lily arrives the next morning I spend exactly thirteen minutes in bed convinced that I am getting sick. It takes her exactly six minutes to unconvince me. She takes my temperature, blood pressure, heart and pulse rates before declaring that I am simply lovesick.

“Classic symptoms” she says.

“I’m not in love. I can’t be in love”

“And why not?”

“What would be the point?” I say, throwing my hands up. “Me in love would be like a food critic with no taste buds. It would be like being a color blind painter. It would be like-“

“Like skinny dipping by yourself?”

I have to laugh at that one. “Exactly” I say. “Pointless”

“Not pointless” she says, and looks at me seriously. “Just because you can’t experience everything doesn’t mean you shouldn’t experience anything. Besides, doomed love is a part of life”

“I’m not in love” I say again.

“And you’re not sick” she retorts. “So there’s nothing to worry about”

For the rest of the morning I’m too distracted to read or do homework. Despite Lily’s reassurances that I’m not getting sick, I find myself paying to much attention to my body and how it feels. Are my fingertips tingling? Do they normally do that? Why can’t I seem to catch my breath? How many somersaults can a stomach do before becoming irreparably knotted? I ask Lily to do an extra check of my vitals and the results are all normal.

By the afternoon I acknowledge in my head that Lily might be on to something. I might not be in love but I’m in like. I wander the house aimlessly, seeing Sirius everywhere. I see him in my living room suffering through Pride and Predjudice with me. I see him in my bedroom, his black clad body asleep on my white couch.

And it’s not just Sirius that I see. I keep picturing myself floating high above the Earth. From the edge of space I can see the whole world all at once. My eyes don’t have to stop at a wall or at a door. I can see the beginning and the end of time. I can see infinity from there.

For the first time in a long time, I want mire than I have.


	39. WONDERLAND

And it’s the wanting that pulls be back down to Earth hard. The wanting scares me. It’s like a weed that spreads slowly, just beneath your notice. Before you know it, it’s pitted your surfaces and darkened your windows.

I send Sirius a single email. Im really busy this weekend, I say. I need to get some sleep, I say. I need to concentrate, I say. I shut down my computer, unplug it, and bury it under a stack of books. Lily raises a single questioning eyebrow at me. I lower two nonanswering eyebrows back at her.

I spend most of Saturday suffering through calculus. Math is my least favorite and worst subject. It’s possible that those two facts are related. By evening I move on to rereading the annotated and illustrated version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. I barely notice Lily packing up to leave at the end of the day.

“Did you get in a fight with him?” She asks, nodding at my laptop.

I shake my head no but don’t say anything more.

By Sunday the urge to check my email is acute. I imagine my in box overflowing with Subject less emails from Sirius. Is he asking more fast five questions? Does he want some company? Refuge from his family?

“You’re okay” Lily says on her way out the door that evening. She hugs me and I feel like a little kid again.

I take Alice to my white couch and settle in. Lily’s right of course, I am okay. But, like Alice, I’m just trying not to get lost. I keep thinking about the summer I turned eight. I spent so many days with my forehead pressed against my glass window, bruising myself with my futile wanting. At first I just wanted to go outside. And then I wanted to play with the neighborhood kids, to play with all kids everywhere, to just be normal for an afternoon, a day, a lifetime.

So. I don’t check my email. One thing I’m certain of: wanting just leads to more wanting. There’s no end to desire.


	40. LIFE IS SHORT: spoiler reviews by Remus

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

spoiler alert: Beware the Queen of Hearts. She’ll have your head.


	41. MAKES YOU STRONGER

There’s no email from Sirius. Not one. I even check my spam folder. This shouldn’t bother me and it doesn’t. It doesn’t bother me a lot. In the interest of thoroughness, I refresh my email three more times in about two seconds. Maybe it’s just hiding somewhere, stuck behind another one.

Lily walks in as I’m about to refresh again.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to unearth that thing” she says.

“Good morning to you, too” I say, squinting down at the screen.

She smirks and begins her daily unpacking of the medical bag ritual. Why she doesn’t just leave it here overnight is a mystery.

“Why the frown? Another cat video?” Her smile is wide and cheery, very Cheshire Cat like. Any minute now her body will disappear, leaving just a grinning floating head in its wake.

“Sirius didn’t send me any emails”

I believe nonplussed is the word for her expression.

“All weekend” I say, by way of illumination.

“I see.” She puts the stethoscope in her ears and thermometer under my tongue.

“Did you email him?”

“Yeah” I talk around the thermometer.

“Just nod, Remmy”

“Sawwy”

She rolls her eyes and we wait for the beep.

“Ninety nine point eight” I say, handing the thermometer back to her. “I basically told him not to write. Am I being ridiculous?”

She motions for me to turn around so she can listen to my lungs but doesn’t respond.

“How ridiculous?” I prompt. “On a scale of one to ten, one being perfectly rational and reasonable and ten being absurd and certifiable”

“An eight” she says without hesitation.

I’d been expecting her to say a twelve so an eight seems like a victory. I tell her so and she laughs at me.

“So you told him not to write to you and then he didn’t write to you, am I right?”

“Well I didn’t say DONT WRITE in big, bold letters or anything. I just said I was busy” I think she’s going to make fun of me, but she doesn’t.

“Why didn’t you write him?”

“Because of what we talked about. I like him, Lily. A lot. Too much”

The look on her face says “is that all?” “Do you really want to lose the only friend you’ve ever had over a little bit of a heartache?”

I’ve read many, many books involving heartache. Not one has described it as little. Soul shattering and world destroying, Yes. Little, no.

She leans back against the couch. “This will all pass. It’s just the newness and hormones”

Maybe she’s right. I want her to be right so I can talk to him again.

She leans forward and winks at me. “That, and he’s cute”

“He is pretty cute right?” I chuckle.

“Remmy, I didn’t even know there were guys our age that stunning” she laughs.

I’m laughing, too.

“Go!” She nudges me. “You have enough things to be afraid of. Love can’t kill you”


	42. NO YES MAYBE

_Monday, 8:09PM_

Hi.

**hey**

How are you? How was your weekend?

**fine. good**

**yours?**

Good, but busy. I mostly did calculus homework.

**ahh, calculus. The mathematics of change**

Wow. You really weren’t kidding about liking math?

**no**

Im sorry about my email.

**which part?**

All of it. Are you mad at me? No, yes, maybe?

**no yes maybe**

I don’t think you’re supposed to use all the answers.

**whyd you send it?**

I got scared.

**of what?**

You.

You didn’t write to me either.

**you didn’t want me to**

...

**does the ellipsis mean we’re having an awkward silence or that you’re thinkimg?**

Both.

Why do you like math so much?

 **why do you like books so**   **much?**

Those are not the same thing!

**why not?**

You can find the meaning of life in a book.

**life has meaning?**

Youre not serious.

**its possible**

**what book can you find the meaning of life in?**

OK. Maybe not a single book, but if you read enough, you’ll get there.

**is that your plan?**

Well, I’ve got the time.

...

**thinking?**

Yes. I have a solution to our problem.

**listening**

Lets agree to just be friends, ok?

**ok**

**but no more checking out my muscles**

Friends, Sirius!

**and my eyes**

No more talking about my freckles

And my hair

**and your lips**

and your dimple

**you like my dimple?**

friends!

**ok**

 


	43. TIME

Lily makes us wait a week before we can see Each other again. She wants to be absolutely sure that being in the same room with Sirius didn't activate any of my triggers. Even though I agree that we should wait a week to be safe, the week seems interminable. I'm sort of convinced that time has literally, and not just metaphorically, slowed down, but that's the kind of thing that would make headlines.


	44. MIRROR MIRROR

After an epoch, the week finally ends. I'm giddy and trying not to be. This is more difficult than you'd imagine. Trying not to smile only makes you smile more.

Lily watches me struggle to choose what to wear. It's not something I've ever given much thought to. Really, I've never given any thought to it. My closet consists entirely of white tee shirts and blue jeans. The jeans are arranged by type, my shoes, all the same brand and all white, are piled in a heaobin the back corner. I almost never wear a pair of shoes around the house and now I don't know of I can find a pair that fits. Rummaging through the pile, I find a pair that fit just barely. I stand in front of the mirror. Is your shirt supposed to match your shoes or is that your tie? Is white the best color for my complexion? I make a mental note to do some shopping later. I'll buy a tee shirt in every color until I can find one that suits me best. 

For the fifth time I ask Lily if mom already left.

"You know your mom" she says "Has she ever been late a day in her life?"

My mother believes in punctuality the way other people believe in God. Time is precious, she says, and it's rude to waste someone else's. I'm not even allowed to be late for Friday Night Dinners.

I look myself I'm the mirror, change the V-necked white tee shirt for a scoop neck white T shirt for no reason at all. Or not for no reason but to have something to do while waiting for Sirius.

I wish again that I could talk to my mom about this. I want to ask her why I feel breathless when I think of him. I want to share my giddiness with her. I want to tell her all the funny things Sirius says. I want to tell her how I can't make myself stop thinking about him even though I try. I want to ask her if this is how she felt about dad in the beginning.

I tell myself it's okay. I didn't get sick after the last time I saw him and he knows the rules. No touching. Full decontamination treatment. No visit even if he suspects he could get sick in the next few days.

I tell myself there's no harm in lying to my mom. I tell myself I won't get sick. I tell myself there's no harm in friendship.

That Lily's right, and love can't kill me.


	45. FORECAST

Sirius is on the wall again when I enter the room. This time he's climbed all the way to the top.

"Don't your fingertips ever get tired?" I ask.

" I've got them on a strict workout regimen," he says, grinning at me. My stomach does a little flip that I'm going to have to get used to, since it seeks to be a side effect of seeing him.

I was in this room to do my homework yesterday. I know it's exactly the same as I left it, but it looks and feels different. The room is so much more alive with Sirius in it. If all the fake plants and trees swayed to life right now, I wouldn't be surprised.

I walk to the couch and settle into the corner farthest away from him.

Down from the wall, he sits cross legged and leans his back against it.

I tuck my legs beneath me, run my fingers through my hair, hug my waist. What is it about being in the same room with him that makes me so conscious of my body and all its parts? He even makes me aware of my skin.

"You're wearing shoes today," he says, notices. He's definitely a noticer, the kind of boy who would know if you'd rearranged a painting or added a new vase to a room.

I look down at my shoes. " I have 9 pairs of these exact same shoes"

"And you complain about my wardrobe choices?"

"You only wear black! It makes you look sepulchral"

" I need a dictionary to talk to you"

"Of or relating to a sepulcher"

"Not that helpful a definition"

"Basically you're the angel of death"

He grins at me. "The scythe gave me away, didn't it? I though I hid it so well"

He changes positions. Now he's lying flat on his back, knees bent, hands laced behind his head.

I shift my body again for no reason, pulling my legs into my chest and wrapping my arms around them. Our bodies are having their own conversation separate and apart from us. Is this the difference between friendship and something else? This awareness that I have of him?

The air filter cycle on, making low hum beneath the sound of the fan.

"How does that work?" His eyes are scanningbthe ceiling.

" it's Industrial. The windows are sealed so are only comes into the filters on the roof. Nothing over 0.3 microns gets in. Also, the circulation system completely changes all the air in the house every 4 hours"

"Wow" he turns his head to look at me and I can see him trying to come to terms with just how sick I am.

I look away. "The settlement paid for it" before he can ask I add " the trucker who killed my dad and brother fell asleep behind the wheel. He'd been working 3 shifts in a row. They settled with my mom"

He turns his head back towards the ceiling. "I'm sorry"

"It's strange because I don't really remember them. Meaning I don't remember them at all" I tried to ignore the feelings that surface when I think about them. They're sadness that's not quite sadness, and then guilt. " it's weird to miss something you've never had, or don't remember having, any way"

"Not so weird" he says. We're both quiet and he closes his eyes.

"Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you could just change one thing?" He asks.

Not usually, but I'm starting to. What if I weren't sick? What if my dad and brother had and died? Not wondering about impossible things is how I've managed to be relatively Zen.

"Everyone thinks they're special" he says. "Everyone's a snowflake, right? We're all unique and complicated. We can never know the human heart, and all that?"

I nod slowly, certain I agree with what he's saying now, but equally certain that I'm going to disagree with whatever's next.

" I think that's nonsense. We're not snowflakes. We're just outputs for a set of inputs"

I stop nodding. "Like a formula?"

"Exactly like a formula" he props himself up on his elbows to look at me. "I think there are one or two inputs that matter the most. Figure those out and you figured out the person. You can predict anything about them"

"Really? What am I going to say now?"

He winks at me. "You think I'm a brute, a heretic, a-"

"A crackpot" I finish for him. "You don't really believe we're math equations?"

"I might" he lies back down.

"But how do you know which input to change?" I ask.

He sighs a long, suffering sigh. "Yeah, that's the problem. Even if you could figure out which one to change, then how much should you change it? And what if you can't change it precisely enough? Then you cannot predict the new output. You can make things worse"

He sits up again. "Imagine, though, if you could just change the right inputs, you could fix things before they went wrong" he says this last part quietly, would the frustration of someone who's been trying to solve the same unsolvable problem for a long time now. Our eyes meet and he looks embarrassed, like he's revealed more than he meant to.

He lies back down and throws a forearm across his eyes. "The problem is chaos theory. There are too many inputs to the formula and even the small ones matter more than you think. And you can never measure them precisely enough. But! If you could, you could write a formula to predict the weather, the future, people"

"But chaos theory says you can't?"

"Yup"

"You needed a whole branch of mathematics to tell you that people are unpredictable?"

"Had that figured out, did you?"

"Books, Sirius! I learned it from books"

He laughs, rolls onto his side, and laughed some more. He's infectious and I'm laughing, too, my whole body responding to him. I watch for the dimple that I'm no longer supposed to be paying attention to. I want to put my finger into it and keep him smiling forever.

Maybe we can't predict everything, but we can predict some things. For example, I'm certainly going to fall in love with Sirius.

It's almost certainly going to be a disaster.

 


	46. REMISS DICTIONARY

**ob•ses•** **sion** (əb'seSHən) n. _ok_ _._ **-s.**  
1\. acute (And completely justifiable) interest in something (or someone) acutely interesting. [2018, Lupin]


	47. SECRETS

My constant IMing with Sirius is catching up with me. I fell asleep during not one but two movie Nights with my mom. She begins worrying that something's wrong, that my immune system is compromised somehow. I tell her it's simpler than that. I'm just not getting enough sleep. I guess I understand why, given our situation, her doctors brain would go immediately to the worst case scenario. She tells me what I already know, that lack of sleep is not good for someone with my condition. I promise to be better. That night I only I am with him until 2 a.m. instead of her usual 3 a.m.

It feels strange not to talk to my mom about something, someone, who's becoming so important to me. My mom and I are drifting apart, but not because we're spending less time together. And not because Sirius is replacing her. We're drifting apart because For the first time in my life, I have a secret to keep.


	48. THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING

**Thank you for shopping at BlueTag**

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	49. NUMEROLOGY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: implied abuse

_**Number of minutes**_ _ **it**_ _ **took Sirius's**_ _ **Dad**_ ** _to begin yelling after_** ** _he_** _ **arrived home last night**_  
_8_

 

_**Number**_ ** _of complaints about the_** ** _goddamn_** ** _roast_** ** _beef_** ** _being_** _ **overcooked**_ ** _again_**  
_4_

 

**_Number_** ** _of times Sirius's_** ** _mom_** _ **apologized**_  
_6_

 

**_Number_** ** _of times_** _ **sirius's**_ ** _dad_** ** _called_** ** _regulus_** ** _a_** _ **goddamn**_ ** _freak_** ** _for_** _ **wearing**_ ** _black nail polish_**  
_2_

 

**_Number_** ** _of minutes_** ** _it_** ** _takes_** ** _sirius's_** ** _Mom_** ** _to_** ** _remove_** ** _regulus_** ** _'s nail polish_**  
_3_

 

**_Number of_** ** _times_** ** _sirius's_** ** _dad mentioned that he knows someone_** ** _has_** _ **been drinking**_ ** _his_** ** _goddamn_** ** _whiskey_**  
_5_

 

_**Number**_ ** _of_** ** _times_** ** _he_** ** _mentioned_** ** _that_** ** _he's_** ** _the smartest guy in the house_**  
_2_

 

_**number**_ ** _of_** ** _times_** ** _he_** ** _mentioned_** ** _that_** ** _no_** ** _one_** ** _should_** ** _forget that he makes all the money_**  
_2_

 

_**number of pun filled jokes**_ _ **it**_ _ **takes to get**_ ** _Sirius_** _ **feeling marginally better when he IM's at 3 a.m.**_  
_5_

 

_**number**_ ** _of times_** ** _he_** ** _writes_** ** _"it doesn't matter" during_** ** _our IM_** ** _conversation_**  
_7_

 

_**hours of sleep I**_ ** _got_** ** _last night_**  
_0_

 

_**number of cigarettes**_ ** _regulus_** ** _buried_** ** _in_** ** _the_** ** _garden_** ** _this_** ** _morning_**  
_4_

 

_**Number of**_ ** _visible_** ** _bruises_** ** _on_** ** _Sirius_** ** _'s Mom_**  
_0_

 

_**number**_ ** _of invisible_** ** _bruises_**  
_Uncertain_

 

_**hours**_ ** _until I_** ** _see_** ** _Sirius_** ** _again_**  
_0.5_

 


	50. SIRIUS SAYS

He's not on the wall when I see him again the next day. Instead he's in what I've begun to think of as his resting position, bouncing lately on the balls of his feet with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Hi" I waved from the door, waiting for my stomach to complete its crazy Sirius dance.

"Hey yourself." His voice is low in a little rough, sleep deprived.

"Thanks for chatting last night," he says, eyes tracking me all the way to the couch.

"Anytime." My own voice is husky and low as well. He looks paler than usual today and shoulders are so forward a little, but still he's moving.

"Sometimes I wish I could just disappear and leave them," he confesses, ashamed.

I want to say something, not just something, but the perfect thing to comfort him, to make him forget his family for a few minutes, but I can't think of it. This is why people touch. Sometimes words are just not enough.

Our eyes meet and, since I can't hug him, I wrap my arms around my own waist, holding on tight.

His eyes drift across my face as if he's trying to remember something. "Why do I feel like I've always known you?" He asks.

I don't know but I feel it, too. He stops moving, having come to whatever decision he needed to.

He says your world can change in a single moment.

He says no one is innocent, except maybe you, Remus Lupin.

He says his dad wasn't always this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	51. CHAOS THEORY

10 year old Sirius and his dad are at the breakfast bar in their old Penthouse apartment in New York City. It's Christmas time, so maybe it's snowing outside, or maybe it just stopped snowing. This is a memory, so the details are bit uncertain.

His dad has made fresh hot chocolate. He's a connoisseur and prides himself on making it from scratch. He melts actual bars of baking chocolate and uses whole 100% of the fat milk. He takes Sirius's favorite mug, pores and oily of chocolate and add 6 oz of hot milk needed to almost boiling on the stove, never in the microwave. Sirius stirs the milk and chocolate together while his dad gets the whipped cream, also freshly made, from the fridge. The cream is just lightly sweetened, the kind of sweet that makes you want more. He spoons one dollup, maybe two into Sirius's mug.

Sirius raises his cup and blows on the already melting whipped cream. He slides across the surface like a miniature Iceberg. He eyes his dad over the top of the mug, trying to gauge what kind of mood he's in.

Lately the moods have been bad, worse than normal.

"Newton was wrong" his dad says now. "The universe is not dererministic"

Sirius kicks his legs. He loves it when his dad talks to him like he's a grown up. They've been having more of these conversations since his dad's suspension from work.

"What does that mean?" Sirius asks.

His dad always waits for Sirius to ask before explaining anything.

"It means one thing doesn't always lead to another" he says, and takes a slurp of hot chocolate. Somehow his dad never blows on the hot liquid first. He just dives right in. "It means you can do every _goddamn_ thing right, and your life can still turn to shit"

Sirius holds his sip of chocolate in his mouth and stares at his mug.

A few weeks ago, Sirius's mom had explained that his dad was going to be home for a while until things were fixed at work. She wouldn't say what was wrong, but Sirius had overheard words like "fraud" and "investigation". He wasn't sure what any of that meant, only that his dad seemed to love Sirius and Regulus and his mom a little less than he did before. And the less he seemed to love them, the more they tried to become lovable.

The phone rings and his dad strides over to it.

Sirius swallows his mouthful and listens.

At first his dad uses his work voice, the one that's angry and relaxed at the same time. Eventually, though, his voice just turns to angry. "You're firing me? You said those assholes were clearing me"

Sirius fins himself getting angry, too, on behalf of his dad. He puts his mug down and slips off his stool.

His dad paced the length of the room. His face is a storm.

"I don't care about the goddamn money. Don't do thus, Phil. If you fire me everyone's going to think-"

He stops moving and holds the phone away from his ear. He doesn't say anything for a long minute.

Sirius stops moving, too, hoping that whatever Phil says next will fix everything.

"Jesus. You guys can't do this to me. No one's going to touch me after this"

Sirius wants to go to his dad and tell him everything is going to be ok, but he can't. He's too afraid. He slips out of the room, taking his hit chocolate with him.

The first time Sirius's dad gets afternoon drunk- violent drunk, yelling at the top of his lungs drunk, doesn't remember what happened the next day drunk- doesn't happen till a few months later. He'd been home all day, arguing with financial news shows on television. One of the anchors mentioned the name of his old company, and he raged. He poured whiskey into a tall glass and then added vodka and gin. He mixed them together with a long spoon until the mixture was no longer the pale amber color of the whiskey and looked like water instead.

Sirius watched the color fade in the glass and remembered the day his dad got fired and how he'd been too afraid to comfort him. What if he had? Would things be different now? What if?

He remembered how his dad had said that one thing doesn't always lead to another.

He remembered sitting at the breakfast be and stirring the milk and chocolate together. How the chocolate turned white and the milk turned brown and how sometimes you can't unmix things no matter how much you might want to.


	52. SIRIUS'S FORMULA

_Find Z in the_ _following_ _equation_ _:_

 

_X + Y = Z_

 

_Where X is_ _unknown_ _and knowable and where Y is unknown and_ _knowable_

 


	53. A TALE OF TWO MOONYS

"Your mom wants to know if I've noticed anything different about you lately" says Lily across the living room.

I'm watching the first mission impossible movie with Tom Cruise. He plays a super spy, Ethan Hunt, who leads a double life, sometimes triple, and sometimes quadruple life. It's towards the end and Ethan has just unmasked himself, literally, to catch the bad guys.

Lily repeats herself, louder this time.

"And have you?" I asked as Ethan is pulling off his incredibly realistic mask to reveal his true face. I told my head to one side for a better perspective.

"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling guilty for ignoring her.

"Its you and that boy"

"What do you mean?"

She sighs and sits. "I knew it was a mistake letting you two see eachother"

She has my full attention now. "What did my mom say?"

"Did you cancel movie night with her?"

I knew I shouldn't have done it. She looks so hurt and disappointed, but didn't want to wait until after 9 to IM with Sirius. I can't get enough of talking to him. I'm overflowing with words. I'll never come to the end of all things I want to say to him.

"And she says you're distracted all the time. And you ordered a lot of clothes. And shoes. And she almost beat you at some game that you always win."

Oh.

"Does she suspect?"

"That's all you're worrying about? Listen to me, moony. Your mom is missing you. She's a lonely without you. You should have seen her face when she was asking me"

"I just-"

"No" she says, cutting me off "You can't see him anymore" she picks up the discarded remote and clutching it in her hands, looking anywhere but at me.

Panic sends my heart racing. "Lily, please. Please don't take him away from me"

"He's not yours in the first place!"

"I know-"

"No, you don't know. He's not yours. Maybe he has time for you right now, but he's going to go back to school soon. He's going to meet someone else, and he's going to be their Sirius. You understand me?"

I know she's just trying to protect me, just as I was trying to protect myself a few short weeks ago, but her words make me aware that my heart in my chest is a muscle like any other. It can hurt.

"I understand" I say quietly.

"Spend some time with your mother. Boys come and go, but family is forever"

I'm sure she said these very same words to her sister at one point.

"Okay" she has me back the remote. Together we watch the unmoving screen.

She pushes down on the tops of her knees with both hands and rises.

"Did you mean it?" I asked her when she's halfway across the room. 

"Mean what?"

"You said that love couldn't kill me."

"Yes, but it might kill your mom." She manages a small smile. 

I hold my breath, waiting. 

"Okay fine." She gives in. "You can still see him, but you have to get some sense into you. You understand?"

I nod my agreement and turn the television off. Ethan Hunt vanishes.

I spend the rest of the day in the sun room away from Lily. I'm not angry at Lily, but I'm not not angry either. All my doubts about keeping Sirius a secret from my mom have vanished. I can't believe that one cancelled date with her almost led to my not being able to see Sirius again. Before, I was worried about keeping secrets from her. Now, I'm worried about not being able to have any secrets at all. I know she's not upset that I bought new clothes. She's upset that I didn't ask her opinion and bought them in colors that she didn't expect. She's upset with the change she didn't see coming. I resent and understand at the same time. She's had to control so many things to keep me safe in my bubble.

And she's not wrong. I have been distracted when I'm with her, my mind constantly tuning into Radio Sirius. I know she's not wrong. But I still resent it. Isn't growing apart a part of growing up? Don't I get to have you in this little bit of normalcy?

Even so, I feel guilty. She's devoted her entire life to me. Who am I to throw that away at the first sign of love?

Lily eventually finds me for 4 p.m. check up. 

"Is there such a thing as sudden onset schizophrenia?" I asked. 

"Why? You have it?"

" Maybe." 

"Am I talking too good moony or bad moony right now?"

"Unclear."

She patted my hand. "Be good to your mom. You're all she has."


	54. FREEDOM CARD

**We've** **received** **your** **credit** **card application**

   Argentis  Inc.  
   to me

Thank you for applying for your new Argentis FreedomCard, the credit card that allows you the flexibility and spending power to pursue your dreams and plan for the future.

YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION  
Remus Lupin  
304 Papillon Way


	55. UPSIDE DOWN

Normal people pace when they're nervous. Sirius stalks.

"Sirius! It's just a handstand. Against a wall. I'll be fine" It's taken me an hour to convince him to show me how to do one.

"You don't have enough wrist or upper body strength" he grumbles.

"You used that one already. Besides, I'm strong" I say, I flex a single bicep. "I can bench press my weight in books"

He smiles a little at that, then mercifully stops stalking. He flicks his rubber band as his eyes scan my body, mentally critiquing my lack of physical fortitude.

I roll my eyes as dramatically as possible.

"Fine" he sighs, with equal drama. "Squat" He demonstrates.

"I know what a-"

"Concentrate"

I squat down.

From across the room he checks my form and instructs me to make adjustments. Hand twelve inches apart, arms straight with elbows pressed against my knees, fingertips splayed, until I'm just right.

"Now" he says "shift your weight forward just slightly until your toes comes off the ground"

I shift too far and roll head over heels onto my back.

"Huh" he says, and then presses his lips together. He's trying not to laugh but the telltale dimple gives it away. I get back into position.

"More shift less tilt" He says.

"I thought I was shifting"

"Not so much. Ok. Watch me" He crouches down. "Hands twelve inches apart, elbows against your knees, fingers splayed. Then slowly, slowly shift your weight forward onto your shoulders. Get those toes off the ground and then just push yourself up." He pushes up into a handstand with his usual effortless grace. Again, I'm struck by how peaceful he is in motion. This is like meditation for him. His body is his escape from the world whereas I'm trapped in mine.

"Do you want to see it again?" He asks, flowing back to his feet. 

"Nope" Overeager, I push forward into my shoulder as instructed, but nothin happens. Nothing happens for about an hour. My lower half remains firmly anchored to the ground while my upper arms burn from the effort. I manage several more unintentional somersaults. By the end all I've gotten good at is not yelping when I fall over.

"Take a break?" He asks, still trying not to smile.

I growl at him, lower my head, and push forward again into another somersault. Now he's definitely laughing.

I remain flat on my back, catching my breath, and then I'm laughing along with him. A few seconds later I crouch back into a squat.

He shakes his head. "Who knew you were this stubborn?"

Not me. I didn't know I was this stubborn.

He claps his hands together. "Ok, let's try something new. Close your eyes"

I close them.

"Good. Now pretend you're in outer space"

With my eyes closed he feels closer, as if he's right next to me instead of across the room. His voice slides up my neck, whispers into my ear. "See the stars? And that asteroid field? And that lonely satellite going by? There's no gravity. You're weightless. You can do anything you want with your body, you just have to think it"

I tilt forward and suddenly I'm upside down. At first I'm not sure I've done it. I open and close my eyes a few times, but the world remains inverted. Blood rushes to my head, making me feel heavy and lightheaded at once. Gravity pulls my mouth into a smile and tugs my eyes open. I am wonderfully foreign with my own body. My upper arms begin to wobble. I over tilt from the vertical position and my feet touch the wall. I push off to reverse my direction and fall back into a crouch. 

"Awesome" Sirius says, clapping. "You even held it for a few seconds. Pretty soon you won't need the wall at all"

"How about now?" I say, wanting more, wanting to see the world the way he does.

He hesitates, about to argue, but then his eyes me mine. He nods and crouches down to watch.

I squat, shift, and push up. I'm unstable almost immediately and begin to fall backwards. Sirius is suddenly right next to me, his hands on the bare skin of my ankles, holding me steady. Every nerve in my body migrates to where he touches. The skin under his hand sparks to life, every cell alight with feeling. I feel as if I've never been touched before.

"Down" I say, and he gently lowers my legs until they're back on the ground. I wait for him to move back to his corner but he doesn't. Before I can think better of it, I stand up and face him. We're only three feet apart. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. I move my eyes slowly up to his.

"You okay?" He asks.

I mean to say yes, but I shake my head instead. I should move. He should move. He needs to go back to his side of the world, but he doesn't. I can see in his eyes that he won't. My heart beats so loudly that I'm certain he can hear it.

"Remus?" My name is a question and my eyes move to his lips.

He reaches out his right hand and grabs my left index finger. His hand is rough, uneven with calluses, and so warm. He rubs his thumb once across my knuckle and then cocoons my finger in the palm of his hand.

I look back down at my hand.

Friends are allowed to touch, right?

I disentangle my finger so that I can entangle all the others until our palms are ate pressed against each other. 

I look back up to his eyes and see my reflection there. "What do you see?" I ask.

"Well, the first thing is those freckles"

"You're obsessed"

"Slightly. It looks like someone sprinkled chocolate across your nose and cheeks" his eyes travel down to my lips and back up to my eyes. "Your lips are pink and they get pinker when you chew on them. You chew on them more when you're disagreeing with me. You should do that less. The disagreeing not the chewing, the chewing adorable"

I should say something, stop him, but I can't speak.

"I've never seen someone with hair as poofy as yours. It looks like a small cloud"

"If clouds were brown" I say, finally finding my voice. Trying to break the spell.

"Yes, curly brown clouds. And then your eyes. I swear they change color. Sometimes they're almost blue. Sometimes they're green. I'm trying to find correlation between the color and your mood but I don't have it yet. I'll keep you posted"

"Correlation is not causation" I say just to have something to say. 

He grins and squeezes my hand. "What do you see?"

I want to answer but I find that I can't. I shake my head then look back down at our hands. 

We remain that way, sliding between certainty and uncertainty and back again until he hear Lily's approach and we are forced apart.

I am made. I am unmade.


	56. SKIN

I read once that on average, we replace the majority of our cells every seven years. Even more amazing, we change the upper layers of our skin every two weeks. If all the cells in our body did this, we'd be immortal. But some of our cells, like the ones in our brains, don't renew. They age and they age us.

In two weeks my skin will have no memory of Sirius's hand on mine but my brain will remember. We can have immortality or the memory of touch. But we can't have both.


	57. FRIENDSHIP

Later, 8:16PM

 **You're logged on early**  
I told my mom I had lots of homework.  
 **Are you all right?**  
Are you asking if I'm sick?  
 **Yes**  
So far, so good.  
 **Are you worried**?  
No. I'm fine.  
I'm sure I'm fine.  
 **You are worried**  
A little.  
 **I shouldn't have. I'm sorry**  
Please don't be. I'm not. I wouldn't trade it.  
 **Still**  
 **Are you sure you're ok?**  
I feel brand new.  
**All this from holding hands huh**

 **imagine what a kiss would do**  
...  
Friends don't kiss, Sirius.  
 **Really good ones can**


	58. RESEARCH

Twenty four hours later, kissing is all I can think about. I see the words imagine what a kiss would do whenever I close my eyes. At some point it occurs to me that I don't know anything about kissing. Of course, I've read about it. I've seen enough kissing in movies to get the idea. But I've never pictured my self as a kissee and certainly not a kisser.

Lily says we're probably ok to see each other again today, but I decide to wait a couple more days. She doesn't know about the touch on my ankle, the holding hands, the almost shared breath. I should tell her but I don't. I'm afraid she'll stop our visits. Another lie to add to my growing count. Sirius is now the only person in my life that I haven't lied to.

Forty eight hours post touch and I'm still feeling fine. I sneak peeks at my charts when Lily isn't looking. Blood pressure, pulse, and temperature all seem ok. No early warning signs in sight.

My body goes a little haywire when I imagine kissing Sirius, but I'm pretty sure that's just lovesickness.


	59. 16 PROJECT NAME: kissing primer 1 of 3 NOTEBOOK NO. 17

_Pre-kiss checklist_

_*lip balm_

_*Review potential hand positions_

_*practice kissing technique_

_  
Signature: Remus Lupin_


	60. 17 PROJECT NAME: kissing primer 2 of 3 NOTEBOOK NO. 17

_Creating the correct kissing atmosphere_

_Rain_   
_*proven to heighten passion_   
_*see: "the notebook" "four weddings + a funeral"_

_A portable audio device_   
_*provides properly swelling music_   
_*see: almost every rom com ever_

_An epic love poem_   
_*to be memorized + recited just prior to the kiss act_

_Signature: Remus Lupin_


	61. 18 PROJECT NAME: kissing primer 3 of 3 NOTEBOOK NO. 17

_Kiss mechanics_

_1\. Ensure probability of kissing_   
_*extended eye contact_   
_*unnecessary touching_

_2\. Pucker lips to correct degree of firmness_

_3\. Tilt head to prevent nose collisions_

_4\. Lean in_   
_*partner will make up remaining distance_

_5\. Make contact_   
_*press and hold for 3-5 seconds_

_6\. Pull back slowly_   
_*keep eyes closed!_

_Signature: Remus Lupin_


	62. LIFE AND DEATH

Sirius is not on the wall. He's not even at the far end of the couch. Instead, he's right in the middle, elbows on knee, stretching and releasing his rubber band.

I hesitate in the doorway. His eyes don't leave my face. Does he feel the urge to occupy the same space, to breath the same air that I do?

I linger at the threshold to the room, uncertain. I could go to his traditional spot against the wall. I could stay right here in the doorway. I could tell him that we shouldn't press my luck, but I can't. More than that, I don't want to.

"I think green is your color" he says finally.

I'm wearing one of my new t shirts. It's v necked and close fitting and, now, my new favorite piece of clothing. I may buy ten more of this exact shirt.

"Thanks" I lay a hand across my stomach. The butterflies are back and restless.

"Should I move?" He stretches the rubber band taut between his thumb and index finger.

"I don't know" I say.

He nods and begins to rise.

"No wait" I say, pressing my other hand to my stomach and walking over to him. I sit, leaving a foot of space between us.

He lets the rubber band snap against his wrist. His shoulders release a tension I didn't realized he had been holding.

Next to him, I press my knees together, hunch my shoulders. I make myself as small as possible, as if my size could belie our closeness.

He lifts his arm from his knee, holds his hand out, and wiggles his fingers.

All my hesitation vanishes and I slip my hand into his. Our fingers slide into position as if we've been holding hands like this our entire lives. I don't know how the distance between us closes.

Did he move? Did I?

Now we're next to each other, thighs touching, forearms warming against each other, my shoulder pressing into his upper arm. He rubs his thumb against mine, tracing a path from knuckle to wrist. My skin, each individual cell, lights up. Normal, nonsick people get to do this all the time? How do they survive the sensation? How do they keep from touching all the time?

He tugs my hand just slightly. It's a question, I know, and I look up from the miracle of our hands to the miracle of his face and eyes and lips moving closer to mine. Did I move? Did he?

His breath is warm and then his lips are brushing butterfly soft against mine. My eyes close on their own. The romantic comedies are right about this part. You have to close your eyes.

He pulls away and my lips are cold. Am I doing it wrong? My eyes fly open and crash into the darkening gray of his. He kisses me like he's afraid to continue and he's afraid to stop. I grip the front of his shirt and hold on tight.

My butterflies are rioting.

He squeezes my hand and my lips part and we're tasting each other. He tastes like salted caramel and sunshine. Or what I think salted caramel and sunshine taste like. He tastes like nothing I've ever experienced, like hope and possibility for the future.

I pull away first this time, but only because I need air. If I could, I would kiss him every second of every day for all the days.

He leans his forehead against mine. His breath his warm against my nose and cheeks. It's slightly sweet. The kind of sweet that makes you want more.

"Is it always like that?" I ask, breathless.

"No" he says. "It's never like that" I hear the wonder in his voice.

And just like that, everything changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp


	63. HONESTLY

Later, 8:03PM  
 **No movie night with your mom?**  
I canceled. Lily's going to be upset with me.  
 **Why**?  
I promised her I would spend more time with my mom.  
 **I'm messing up your life**  
No, please don't think that.  
 **What we did today was crazy**  
I know.  
 **What were we thinking?**  
I don't know.  
 **Maybe we should take a break?**  
...  
 **Sorry. I'm trying to protect you**  
What if protection is not what I need?  
 **What does that mean**?  
I don't know.  
 **I need you to be safe. I don't want to lose you**  
You barely have me!  
Are you sorry?  
 **For what? For kissing?**

 **Honestly**?  
Of course.  
 **No  
Are you sorry?**  
No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the last few chapters!
> 
> Buckle in kiddies cause it’s only gonna get wilder from here


End file.
